Best Thing
by windswept butterfly
Summary: *Carby*. Lots 'n' lots o' Carby. "You're ready to go. I fake a smile. All that's between us now is 3,000 miles..."


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Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm dead broke and therefore cannot afford to purchase the lovely Abby and Carter, as much as I would like to. They live with John Wells on the Warner Bros lot…I's just borrowin'. And I klepto'd the storyline from Graham Colton's song *nods*

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AN: Okay, yes, I know I should be writing the epilogue to TWT and getting that all wrapped up for all of you. I know. But, my little Melly-Poo was a sad li'l depressed Carby and she begged me to write her some new fic. This is what came of it. It's blatantly and ridiculously based on the lyrics to the song "Best Thing" by Graham Colton. No, really - I stole the damn plotline right from the song. Download. Listen. Be fuzzed. Oh yeah, and this is a one'er. No more chapters will be added unless I freakishly decide otherwise…

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As usual, hit that little review button at the bottom of the page and make me feel special. Thankie.

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I've always been captivated by airports. Just watching people as they sit and wait for their flight, or witnessing their reunions and goodbyes at the gate. Every person is different, and the airport is where you can see people at their most vulnerable.

Tired. Cranky. Bored. Scared.

Worried. Sad. Joyful.

Lonely. Relieved. Carefree.

It's something that's always interested me, just sitting in the airport and silently looking on as people go about their lives, leaving home or returning to the comfort of the ones they love most.

Clearly, though, it's different when you actually find yourself in the position of the ones you normally watch. Sitting in the chairs at the gate, dreading the moment that the goodbyes must be uttered. It's torturous. It's one of the longest moments in your life, and yet you feel as though it will never just end. Saying goodbye isn't something you look forward to, but at the same time you'd rather just get it over with. The sooner it happens, the sooner you can move on.

My thoughts are rudely interrupted by a voice over the loudspeaker announcing the final boarding call for the flight. We've put this off long enough - sitting here together, completely silent and lost in our thoughts. But still, we both remain glued to our seats. We're not ready to do this yet. To finalize this goodbye.

The past few months between us haven't exactly been exceptional. Things happened, words were said, feelings were hurt…hearts were broken. There was a time when all I had to do was just be there - just hold him and let him lean on me the way I always lean on him. But I was scared, and so I ran. The minute things got difficult and we actually had to put effort into the relationship, I pushed him away even harder. I purposely said things that I knew would sting him. Things that I knew would cut him to the core. I don't want him to be with me and then realize later that he wasted his time. Hurting him now is a small price to pay if it saves him the torture of what would inevitably happen later.

We broke up last month, but we were never capable of staying apart. We still had lunch everyday, still talked. He still held my hand as we walked and he still kissed me hello and goodbye at our every encounter. It's a strange relationship that we have now. I'm not sure I can actually define it. We're not together, but we're definitely not completely apart.

At least, not until now. Once he gets on that plane, our fate is sealed. Our choices have been made. Once he leaves, we're over for good.

He got the job offer in San Diego almost three months ago. We had already been arguing for several weeks by this time, and the fact that he was even considering taking the position just angered me even more. But I didn't tell him not to go. I knew, and still know now, that all I had to do was ask him to stay with me - and he would. No contest. Since the moment San Diego became an issue in our relationship, he's tried to show me that he wants nothing more than to stay here. With me. But I know he won't unless I tell him that I want him to.

And, for some reason, I can't. I have no idea why this is so hard. Why it's so hard to just open up and admit that I can't survive without him near me. That the past few months were just a culmination of my inner doubts and self-hatred, my fear that he would one day leave by his own choosing. Pushing him away is easier to deal with than watching him walk away because he no longer wants me. And I know if I would just tell him this, even right now, he would cancel his flight and turn down the job in California. He would stay with me. Forever.

But I'm too afraid that I'll hurt him. Too afraid that he'll get pulled into the vortex of my crazy life, and be drained of everything that is good in him. I don't want to be responsible for ruining his life. I just want him to be happy. And I really don't believe that he can be happy with me. I'll never be happier than I am when I'm with him, but a huge part of me is sure that his chance at happiness will be destroyed if he remains in my life.

And I can't let that happen.

So I'm letting him go.

"Excuse me…"

I'm jolted back to reality by the voice, and look up to see one of the airline employees standing over us. He glances up at her as well, and I realize just how long we've been sitting here. Silent. It has to have been hours.

"I'm sorry, sir, but the plane is about to taxi out. If you plan on boarding, I need you to do it immediately."

He sighs heavily and looks at me, staring deeply into my eyes. I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down tightly and giving him a fake smile that I hope he will believe is real.

Standing, he grabs his bags and hoists them onto his shoulders. I stand, too, trying to give him a look of confidence and make him trust that this is for the best. I'm not so sure I'm doing a good job.

He reaches out and takes my hand into his own, rubbing it slightly with his thumb. Why can I not just tell him how I feel? Why can I not apologize for all I've done to hurt him and push him away? Why can I not simply say the words that I know will convince him to stay?

"Sir…" She's growing impatient with us, and we know it's now or never.

"Yeah," he responds without looking away from me. "I'm coming. One more minute."

I gaze at him, knowing this will be the last time. "John…"

And he lowers his face. He can't bear to look at me anymore, not when he already knows what I'm going to say.

"Don't. Just…don't. This is how it is, ya know…" he whispers, talking to the floor. "Even I wish it wasn't. Let's just get this over with."

I nod slowly, trying to hold back the tears that are forming in my eyes. Damnit, why am I so stubborn? Why am I so scared to love him? To let him love me?

"Okay. You should go, then. They're waiting."

And the look on his face tells me that this wasn't the response he was hoping for. I know he was waiting for me, again, to ask him to stay. This was the last chance for me to say it, and he clearly hoped that I would. But, instead, I'm telling him to go.

Leave me. You're better off without me. I might not survive once you're gone, but at least you can salvage some chance at happiness. Go, John. Run away.

The tension between us is overwhelming, and I can't stand here any longer. Reaching up, I take his face in my hands and kiss him. Not passionately, but slowly with a hint of loneliness. This is it. If only he knew how badly I wish it could be different.

Pulling away, I whisper "Goodbye" and he nods in reply. He doesn't move, however, so I take the initiative and turn on my heels, heading through the corridor and beginning my trek out of the airport.

It's over. It's really, truly over. I've never loved someone so much in my entire life, but I'm so goddamn self-deprecating that I can't allow myself to be loved in return. Much less can I allow the one I love to be damaged by a life with me. I've hurt him enough already. Just pushing him away was painful enough for both of us. And I hate myself for hurting him as much as I already have. Which is why it's a good thing he's leaving.

But, with him, things have always been different. I was with other men for comfort and security, nothing more. There was no emotional attachment. John, however…I was emotionally attached to John the moment he brought me coffee on the roof that Valentine's Day. He's the only man that has ever understood me. He knows me better than I know myself. I've never felt so safe…so adored. There were plenty of moments in our relationship when I could imagine being with him forever. I could picture us on our wedding day, making vows of love and faithfulness. I've been married before, but dreaming of marrying John - I knew that those vows would never be broken. He would never hurt me. He loves me more than any person has ever loved me. No one will ever love me better than him.

And I love him just the same. My heart aches when he's not around, and the past few months - the arguing, the bickering, the cruel words and insults…the break-up - have been torture. I must be a masochist, because I brought it all upon myself. If I hadn't been so scared to take a leap of faith and give in to my feelings, none of this would have ever happened. I wouldn't be slowly walking through the halls of the airport, knowing that he's gone. Forever 3,000 miles away from me. Forever out of my life. And that's the last thing I want…

I stop dead in my tracks, realizing what I've just done. I've just willingly walked away from the only man that I have ever loved. And he's only leaving because I never asked him to stay. I never told him that I loved him. That I love him still. He's the best thing in my life, and I pushed him away because of self-doubt. Is my own inability to love myself really worth not being loved by him? I thought it was, but that was before he was actually gone. I had convinced myself that this was for the best, but now it's over and done with and I can hardly breathe.

Oh god, what have I done?

This can't be happening…

With a rush of adrenaline, I turn around and begin running back in the direction that I had just come from.

Please let them be delayed. Please don't let that plane be gone…

Right before I reach the gate where I had kissed him goodbye just minutes ago, I stop in front of an Arrival/Departure screen and search for his flight number.

Please say delayed, please say delayed. Please.

Ah, there it is…Flight 2396

No. Please no.

The words on the screen are clear as day, but I feel as though the world has stopped spinning.

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Flight 2396: San Diego - In Transit

Well, now I've really done it.

This is not happening. This can't be happening.

Why am I so stupid? Why couldn't I just be honest with him when I had the chance? It's over now. All chances have passed. He's gone, and it's all my fault. I'm forever without him, and there's no one to blame but myself. Way to go, Abby. It's the crowning moment of self-loathing and stupidity.

Slowly, I take a few steps back to the gate where I left him and sit once again in the chair where I had sat next to him just minutes before. Eyes closed and my face in my hands, I let it out. The emotions overwhelm me and I can no longer pretend as if this is what I wanted. I can no longer act as if this is okay. Nothing is okay. Nothing is right. He's gone. I missed my chance.

I cry for several minutes, sobbing silently into my hands. I just want to backtrack to 30 minutes ago and do it over again. Do it right. I should have told him. I should have asked him to stay. He would have. I know he wanted to. But without my asking him to do so, there was nothing left for him here. There was no reason for him _not_ to go on to a better lifestyle and a better job in sunny San Diego. I love him, though. I do. I've never loved someone so much, and yet I lost him. All because I was scared. And I hurt him. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually _did_ refuse to stay, even if I had asked. I would deserve it, after what I've done and how much pain I've caused.

Sighing heavily, I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and lift my head toward the window, staring out into the sky that now carries the only happiness I've ever known. And then my heart skips a beat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him sitting in a chair beside the window. Staring at me, watching me as I cry. Is he really there, is this a result of wishful thinking? My eyes widen and I again begin to chew on my bottom lip, unsure of what to do now. Unsure if this is even real. But then he stands, and I know I'm not imagining it.

It's mere seconds before I'm standing as well, running across the waiting area and throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him into a suffocating hug. Without letting go, or even relaxing my grip, I choke out a few words into his neck.

"I thought you were gone…"

He laughs slightly, now holding me to him with same enthusiasm, and replies, "I thought _you_ were gone. You should be in the car and on your way back home by now."

I shake my head vigorously and pull back a little, staring into his eyes.

"I'm not leaving. I can't leave you here like this. I can't…God, John, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't mean to push you away."

This wins me a sarcastic look of the unbelieving nature, and so I decide to be completely truthful. Like I said, he knows me too well.

"Okay, maybe I _did_ mean to push you away. But I didn't want to hurt you. And that's why I did it. I'm so scared that you'll be hurt if you're with me. But that doesn't change the fact that…I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. I don't want you to go, John. Please don't leave me. I want you to stay."

Slowly, he reaches toward my face and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, causing chills to run up my spine. He smiles slightly and nods.

"I was hoping you would say that. I won't leave. I can't. I thought I could, but as I watched you walk away I just…I realized that no matter what's happening between us, I'd rather have that than not be near you at all. And I couldn't get on the plane. I wasn't sure what would happen when you found out I stayed, but I couldn't leave. I can't do it."

I close my eyes in relief and offer a small smile, disbelieving how much things have turned around in just a few moments time. I've never believed in luck or fate or divine intervention, but - something was definitely on my side today. 

"Abby…" and I open my eyes again, finding him looking at me with a touch of uncertainty. "It's just…lately, everything between us…I don't know what happened, but something's gotten in the way. I don't want us to fall right back into the pattern of fighting and insults that's been the definition of who we are the past few months. I know I want to be with you, but I'm not sure I can handle it if -"

"It's okay," I interrupt suddenly, overcome with faith in him. And me. And us. "We can work it out. I know we can. Just give me another chance, okay? Please?"

He doesn't look as convinced as I am.

"How can you be so sure? The last few months we were together, all we did was argue. And it was killing me. What'll be different this time around? How do you know things can change?"

This, right now, is John Carter at his most exposed. He's wearing his emotions on his sleeve, begging me to prove to him that our dreams can really come true. That this doesn't have to be the end, and that everything can work out if we just give it another try. And I think it's finally time that I joined him in this helpless state - throw off all armor and stand in front of him susceptible to whatever pain might come my way. I'll never know the outcome if I don't just try.

So, I take a deep breath and place my hands on his face. Giving him a smile, I feel a tear slide down my cheek as I finally conjure up the nerve to answer him.

"Because…I love you."

The smile that spreads across his face is like nothing that I have ever seen. I never knew what to expect when I finally spoke those words to him for the first time, and I suppose that's why I never actually said it. But he's happy. He's so happy right now. He knew all along how I felt, but I don't think he ever expected me to feel comfortable enough with him to say it. I've just proven myself to him. Proven my commitment to him. I've opened myself up to him as I've never done for anyone else.

Wrapping his arms around me again, he pulls me back into his chest and holds me tightly. I squeeze back, never wanting to let go. And if I get my way, I'll never have to let go. Not emotionally, at least. But he pulls back again, just enough to meet my eyes, and leans down placing his forehead against mine.

"Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you for trusting me."

And then he kisses me. Not at all like the goodbye kiss I gave him earlier. This time it's passionate, full of fire and want. We need each other, and we were stupid to ever think differently. I've never felt so complete. Right now, I have everything I've ever wanted but never thought I deserved. Screw my subconscious need to ruin my own life. I'm being given a second chance, and I'm not going to destroy it.

He reluctantly releases my lips from his own and reaches down, grabbing his bags. Taking my hand into his, he brings it to his mouth and kisses it gently before moving in and kissing my forehead, whispering, "Let's go home."

Home. The apartment we shared for so long. The apartment that I've been alone in for a month now. And I can't wait to have him there with me again. I squeeze his hand tightly and smile at him, nodding in agreement as we begin the hike out of the airport and into the perfect weather of a sunny spring day in Chicago. Right before we reach the double doors that lead out into the parking lot, however, he stops and moves to stand in front of me, still gripping my hand in his own.

And then he's kissing me again. Not as deeply as before, as there are people bustling all around us, but kissing me nonetheless. It's a feeling I've missed. Even when we were broken up, he still kissed me. But it never felt like this. It never felt the way it feels when I know that we're together. That we're in love.

As if on cue, he pulls away and begins caressing my cheek with a smile playing on his lips. "I love you, too," he whispers, and my eyes flutter closed in response. The most amazing thing I've ever heard. I feel him kiss my cheek before he slowly tugs on my hand and I open my eyes and walk out with him. To start over with him. Together. And this time, to do it right. No holding back anymore.

Out of all the things in my life, he's the best. And I never want to jeopardize that again. Just when I thought my chance at happiness had disappeared, I took a nosedive into the deep-end of love and released all of the feelings and emotions that I've always been too afraid to admit. And this is where it landed me.

Safe in his arms. Protected. Loved in return.

And it's the best decision I've ever made.


End file.
